


Bacon, Baby, and the Backseat

by CastielsCarma



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Communication, Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester, FicFacers2019, Light Angst, M/M, Only One Bed, backseat in Baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 20:04:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20458700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsCarma/pseuds/CastielsCarma
Summary: Finishing a case takes longer than expected, so even when Dean really wants to do an all-nighter so he and Cas can be back in the Bunker as fast as possible, after some persuasion, Dean agrees to check into a motel for the night. They meet the motel manager Lucille, who happily gives them a special room... with only one bed.The morning after is fraught with tension, over things said and unsaid. As Dean and Cas drive the few remaining hours home, tension rises until Dean breaks.





	Bacon, Baby, and the Backseat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnonGrimm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonGrimm/gifts).

> This is my fic requested by AnonGrimm! Thank you for your patience while I pieced this together. I hope you will like it ! <3 
> 
> I had so much fun with this prompt, and where it went! I now also hold a special place in my heart for Lucille. 
> 
> A huge thank you to Emblue_Sparks and Seralina for being my betas! <3 You caught things I missed, a first, second and third time, gave me valuable advice when I was stuck and you are just generally awesome people!
> 
> As always, hope you enjoy! Kudos and comments are much appreciated.

The light had slowly melted away, the blue sky turning black but instead of tiredness coming slow, like a gentle familiar lover it wielded a sledgehammer and slammed Dean right between the eyes. Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter and blinked a couple of times but it did nothing to mitigate his fatigue. Not even Led Zeppelin's tunes were enough to keep him present, so he lowered the volume on the radio to a faint whispering before cutting the sound altogether.

He turned to Cas, sitting beside him in the black Impala. The light of an occasional street lamp danced over Cas, casting an eerie glow over his features. A perfect eyebrow was arched in question – him muting the radio was not something that happened often – and Dean definitely ignored the lurch in his stomach as that gaze hit him. “Next time we decide to take on a case with weird Shining witches showing up in two places at once, we're nabbing the place closer to the Bunker. Sam and Jack are relaxing, watching some nature documentary on Netflix, totally wrecking my recommendations and we are stuck – “ They passed by a city limit sign – “ in Lufkin, Texas. _Lufkin?_ Is that even a real place?”

Cas narrowed his eyes slightly. “I doubt a sign for a town that was not real would be put up. I think we should stop for the night, Dean. We have several hours to go before we reach the Bunker and your ability to drive straight is not... optimal right now.”

Dean scoffed. “I'm fine, Cas. Five years ago I could sleep three hours, gank the baddies, save the world and still come home in time for tea. And nothing's changed. I'm fine.”

Castiel turned his head to look at the road ahead of them. “Maybe that was true five years ago.” He paused before adding, “You'd never forgive yourself if you steered Baby into a ditch just because you were too stubborn to check into a hotel. And you don't drink tea although you should. It contains a lot of antioxidants, it's proven useful for – “

Letting off the gas somewhat, Dean steered Baby straight, but not before glaring at Cas. “ I don't need antioxidants, Cas. That's for hippies or kids who have to take those gummy vitamins with their breakfast.”

“Colorful foods won't kill you.”

“Hey, I drink that green Machu Picchu death juice you make once in a while. It has color...” Dean rummaged through his jacket and pulled out a rectangular package, tossing it at Cas.

Cas opened up the package, taking out a little square and tearing off the paper. He raised an eyebrow before putting the candy in his mouth. “Starburst is not a food that comes to mind when I think of antioxidants. And it's a matcha juice.” 

“You do that a lot Cas... think about antioxidants?” Dean chuckled, but his laughter died down when Cas gave him the evil eye. “It has different colors.” His defense was not the strongest and as he waved his hand to get a piece of candy, Cas just looked at him again. Dean's stomach lurched, this time the wave of pleasure traveled further down and his cock twitched in interest. “Fine, a hotel it is, Cas.” Gripping the steering wheel tighter, Dean tried to focus on the drive. Lufkin. No sane person would establish a hotel, motel, whatever in Lufkin.

Dean stared intently at the motel sign that flashed green, in a feeble attempt to lure in passersby into its bumpkin clutches. _Lucille's Layover. Lufkin's finest. Open._ He was pretty sure it was Lufkin's _only_ motel but right now he didn't care. The motel looked more like a bed and breakfast, a two-story house with a sickly yellow paint, and two huge flowerpots bursting with some kind of white flowers that stood outside the chipped wooden door. His brief arousal had left him and now all that twitched was a spot under his left eye. Dean rubbed his eyes, trying to alleviate the tiredness he suddenly felt in his bones, grabbed his duffel bag and waited as Cas closed the passenger door.

Cas nodded. “We are lucky, it's open.” His shoes crunched as he walked on the gravel path towards _Lucille's Layover_.

“Yeah, very lucky,” Dean muttered.

Lucille was a willowy wisp of a woman in her hundreds by the look of her and gray hair a curly halo around her face. As she closed the door behind them, Dean was sure that he could smell the tell-tale scents of ancient-hood on her, chamomile lotion, tepid tea, and doilies. Not that doilies really had a specific scent but the monstrous ornaments were definitely old-lady-material. If there ever was a perfume called _Elderly_, Lucille would have been its poster lady.

She smiled and her face disappeared into a giant wrinkle. “What can I do for you? A room for the night I gather?” She turned and walked slowly over to a small desk to the left of the front door. 

Dean had the urge to take her arm and guide her to it, but he was not sure that she wouldn't disintegrate into flakes of dust at the faintest touch. What was an old lady like her doing being the caretaker of a motel anyway, tiny as it was? Behind her on the yellow wall – Lucille apparently had a thing for yellow – Dean saw something framed and as she moved he could see it more clearly. It was a cross-stitch flower wreath encircling a message but it was so ornate that he had trouble reading it at first. _Fresh out of fucks_. Dean grinned. He was starting to have a newfound appreciation for Lucille.

“We noticed your sign. You have rooms available?” Cas inquired when he noticed Dean was lost in thoughts.

Lucille squinted as she looked at the ledger. “Yes, one room left. The other four rooms are occupied. So, I hope you don't mind a little upgrade. Only 25 dollars extra and the honeymoon suite is yours.” She scratched her hair with spindly fingers. “It only has one bed, of course.”

Dean's smile fell and he raised a hand. “Hold on. Me and Cas are not – “ He was on the verge of asking who the fuck would want to have their honeymoon in Lufkin of all places but was interrupted by Cas.

“That's a reasonable fee for an upgrade, Lucille. Consider it booked.”

“Lovely! It comes with complimentary breakfast. Served from 6 am to 8 am. Do you like your bacon crispy or extra crispy, Mr – ?” Lucille was smiling again, her blue eyes barely visible as she was squinting so hard.

“Crispy is fine, thank you,” Cas answered. “And it's Mr. Keenan and Mr. Jones. Castiel Keenan.” He took out a wad of cash and handed it over to Lucille. You can keep the change; it's late and we really don't wanna be a bother.”

As Lucille stowed the money away she asked with a slight worry to her voice, “You do love bacon, don't you, Mr. Jones?”

Dean sighed. “Yes. Sure do.” 

Lucille grabbed a key from a drawer and as she slowly walked to the staircase leading to the second floor, Dean looked at the framed cross-stitch again. “Really dig your decorating, Lucille.”

She stopped and turned to face Dean before whispering. “It does an excellent job of keeping the assholes away.” Then she winked theatrically before taking the stairs up, one agonizingly slow step at a time. 

After wishing them a good night, and again leaving instructions for breakfast, Dean and Cas were alone in the honeymoon suite. A large bed dominated the room, by the look of it taken straight from a Lovecraft novel. Dark woods, intricate carvings and a headboard depicting what looked like a wolf snarling at a girl greeted Dean as he dumped his bag on the floor. The bed covers were white and by the smell of it, newly washed. A lingering scent of lavender came to Dean and he wrinkled his nose. Disgusting. 

An equally eyebrow-raising chair was to the left of the bed, its back depicting a snake with its fangs bared. Dean eased out of his jacket and tossed it on the chair, hiding the creepy-ass legless lizard from sight. “This decor has a long way to go before it says, 'Welcome and congrats, go ahead and bang'. Seems more fitting for the bride of Frankenstein than for the bride of Frank.”

There were no windows in the room but ample floor lamps with yellow shades graced three corners of the room. The wallpapers were a golden color, contrasting the dark, polished wooden floors. The only modern feature was a TV on the opposite wall of the bed, standing on a dresser. Next to the dresser was a door to what Dean surmised was the bathroom. By the look of the rest of the room, it could as easily be the secret door to Narnia. “People are getting ripped off if they pay twenty-five extra bucks for this. At least, we have no doilies on the walls.”

Cas took off his trench coat and folded it into a neat square before putting it down on the chair. “It's a room with a bed. We can rest here and be off first thing in the morning.” He glanced over at the bed, squinting slightly before turning to Dean. “Seems like nice craftsmanship.”

“Uh-huh.” Dean grabbed his phone and started texting Sam about their slight change of plans. They'd been in touch right after they killed the witches and he didn't want him nor Jack to worry when they were a no-show in the morning. They'd probably sleep in anyway and Jack would eat all the cocoa-puffs he could while Sam was on his morning run. Dean smiled. He needed to buy more. Just the disapproving look on Sam's face was worth it. Glancing up, Dean forgot all about what his thumbs were doing and tried to eradicate the images in his mind of what his hands _wanted_ to do right that moment.

Cas had unbuttoned his white shirt and eased out of it, before hanging it over Dean's jacket. He had his back slightly turned so Dean took the opportunity to really take in the vision before him. Strong muscles played over his back as Cas moved, and the flex of those biceps had Dean in a thrall. He clenched his hands before he did something really stupid like softly caress that amazing skin. Not only did Cas have dark thick hair that just called for someone - and that someone was definitely Dean - to run his fingers through it, add to that blue eyes that should be illegal, those chapped lips that he could kiss even rawer and thick thighs – 

Dean cleared his voice. “Uh, Cas? What are you doing? Are you taking off your pants?” 

Cas turned to face Dean, an eyebrow arched in question. “That is the normal procedure before showering, yes.” He stepped out of his pants and folded them up as neatly as the trench coat.

“Right, yeah. Sorry, my bad.” Dean hurriedly walked over to the dresser and grabbed the remote. 

Cas sighed. “There is nothing wrong or shameful with the human body, Dean. With or without clothes.”

Dean was definitely not ashamed of the human body, _any_ bodies for that matter. In fact, he wanted to spend some quality time with one _specific_ body right now. He wondered how Cas would look without that underwear on, even though he had caught a good glimpse of the outline of his ass, round firm globes and ... His cock did more than just twitch this time as Dean felt himself getting hard. Just great. He figured he'd give Cas and himself some more time, so he examined the small flatscreen TV really thoroughly. “Sure, Cas. The human body is a temple, nourish it with kale and seeds. But you don't just.. take off your clothes like that. Randomly...without warning.”

“I'll make sure to warn you next time.” 

Only when Dean could hear the faint echo of the water from the shower tapping on tile did he turn around. He was still achingly hard but figured he'd be fine by the time Cas was done with the shower. He toed off his shoes and unbuttoned his flannel shirt before sinking down onto the bed. It wasn't memory foam but it was soft enough. 

He flipped through the channels at random trying to settle for something when he heard a bang from the bathroom. “You alright in there?”

“I'm fine!” Cas yelled back.

That's when Dean noticed that the bathroom door was still open, and the crack was at such an angle that Dean could look straight into the shower. Sure, part of the shower was obscured by one wall but what he could see through the shower glass left his mouth dry. Cas was lathering himself with soap, a strong hand going over his stomach, his biceps flexing as water ran over his body. He took a step away, out of Dean's view and he felt the loss like a stab to his gut. Dean had just given up on the prospect of seeing more of that heavenly body when Cas was in view again; this time his back was turned towards the door. The globes of his ass flexed, causing Dean to exhale in wonder. He'd give anything to touch Cas with purpose, let his hands wander and explore every part of him until he'd learned every secret. Hell, he wanted more than that; he wanted someone to share the hunter life with, someone that with just one look of those soft cobalt blue eyes electrified his whole being. The good kind of electrifying. He wanted Cas.

With a blink, Dean realized that the shower glass was all fogged down, the warm water now creating an impenetrable shield. Dean tore his eyes away, a sudden coil of shame wrapping itself around his heart, leaving his stomach heavy. He was leering at Cas like a goddamn perv. Disgusted, yet very aware of the lust making his cock throb, Dean turned his attention back to the TV. The Golden Girls were on. 

When Cas came out of the shower, Dean was fully immersed with Blanche's plan to help Dorothy seduce some poor old sap. His hard-on had died down, but the lingering heat was still very much present throughout his body. He felt like he was suffocating.

“Sorry, I think I used all of the hot water,” Cas mumbled apologetically. He walked to the dresser, a flimsy towel barely covering the important parts. 

“Your spare clothes are in my duffel bag. You forgot your bag. I packed extra.” To Dean's ears his reply came out a hoarse whisper but Cas didn't seem to notice.

Cas turned around and Dean could definitely see a lot more than he wanted (he was fucking kidding himself, he so wanted) so he jumped out of bed, aiming straight for the shower.

“You don't wanna wait for the wat – “

“It's fine, Cas, I'll manage. Used to crappy motels. I'm fine. All good.” He tossed some spare clothes at Cas and grabbed his bag. Secretly, he was happy there was no hot water left. He would need all the cold water to cool himself down. The slam as he closed the bathroom door was harder than intended.

The cold shower had helped somewhat. Dean rubbed a hand over his face, looking at himself in the mirror. There were no outward signs of the turmoil inside him. He needed to pull himself together and stop acting like a hormone-riddled teenager. Pulling on underwear and a pair of jeans, he opted for one of his favorite T-shirts, a dark green one with the AC/DC logo on. Maybe somewhat overdressed for bed, but it would do. He wouldn't put it beside Lucille to lower the heat soon. It was after ten, and didn't old people have nightly sweats or something?

As Dean walked out of the bathroom, he discovered Cas laying in bed, wearing the shirt Dean had brought him. His pants were the same as always. Sure, the angel slept now and then and the hunt for the twin witches had taken a toll on both of them, but he hadn't expected Cas to sleep. Of course, he would need sleep; Dean felt like an idiot. He'd been awake for who knows how many days - three - but Dean only knew that cause he'd heard Cas walking around in the Bunker in the early morning hours. Doing laundry, dusting, organizing the pantry, talking with Jack or whatever it was he did when everyone else slept.

Cas looked at him, a quick smile on his face before he noticed Dean's expression. “Is everything OK, Dean? Are you hurt? I didn't notice any – “

Was it possible to be an idiot and a moron at the same time? Probably. What did Dean expect, that Cas would stand in the corner all night or sit on that creepy cursed chair until morning? Of course, Cas would use the bed. Normal people slept in beds. 

“Peachy, Cas. Just tired, is all. It's been a long day and it just hit me all of a sudden.” He went to the right side of the bed, propping up a pillow against the headboard before climbing in. The Golden Girls were still on, maybe it was a marathon. He could feel Cas' eyes on him and finally, he turned. 

There was an amused lilt to Cas voice. “You're gonna sleep like that, dressed for an outing?”

“I don't know about an outing. It might turn chilly. Old ladies are cheap.” Not that he'd ever call Lucille cheap to her face; she would probably slap him for the insolence. And right afterward treat him to a slice of pie. Not that he minded either, but not from her. Dean swallowed as he looked at Cas. “What about you? You're almost as fully dressed as me.”

“I'm an angel. I don't sweat if I don't want to.” He paused. “And there are very few activities where I'd consider sweat desirable, if any.”

Dean most definitely could think of some activities where sweat was _very_ desirable. Christ, he needed to go to sleep as soon as possible so this day would end. When they were back in the Bunker everything would be normal and Dean could long for Cas at a semi-safe distance as opposed to lying right next to him. All too close for comfort, and yet not close enough.

“Alright. We're gonna sleep, so yeah. I'll just – ” Dean turned around as he removed his shirt, grimacing. Of course, they were gonna sleep. He didn't need to state the fucking obvious. Tossing the shirt on the chair, Dean unbuckled his pants, his fingers fumbling with the zipper. Back turned to Cas did nothing to lessen the sensation of eyes watching him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, more in warning than anticipation. His pants slid down to the floor and he hurriedly walked over to the bed. Cas had his attention on the TV, watching some show. A stab of disappointment settled inside Dean before he chased it away. His own feelings for Cas didn't mean that he felt the same way about Dean. And Dean cared too much about him to ruin a great friendship.

He crawled under the covers and noticed that Cas was still dressed. That did nothing to calm down his heart. In some ways he was grateful. He really didn't want to explain to Cas what had caused his sudden heart attack.

“Is the volume OK? I figured I'd watch some TV while you sleep.” Cas looked at Dean, an odd intensity there that he hadn't noticed before. 

Dean's eyes flickered to Cas' lips, and down to his Adam's apple as he swallowed. He was probably finding this whole thing uncomfortable and weird, but he couldn't just sit on the chair and if Dean offered to do that Cas would ask what the hell was – Dean stopped his whirlwind of thoughts. “Yeah, sure you can watch,” he paused for a second, glancing at the TV, “this documentary about coffee beans?”

Cas nodded. “Goodnight, Dean. See you in the morning.” 

A chill went through Dean, and all the lamps in the room flickered before they went dark.

Sleep it was and even though Dean resisted in the beginning – a stubborn desire to just be close to Cas – after a short while he plummeted down into dreamland.

*

Dean came to consciousness slowly, confusion clouding his senses. The first thing he noticed was that he was warm but it was not the kind of sweaty warmth that left your clothes plastered to your skin but a comforting heat of bodies close together. The second thing he noticed was the heavy weight of an arm draped over his waist and the third thing he noticed with acute awareness was Cas' groin pressed against his ass. Dean stiffened, ready to utter some form of excuse that would probably come out as a hoarse whisper before he realized that Cas was not awake. He knew the angel did sleep on occasion and this was apparently one of those. 

Exhaling softly, Dean knew that he should move away, but if he was being perfectly honest it felt nice. He knew him and Cas would never happen, Cas was an angel of the Lord, and Dean... he was Dean. A messed up human, someone who'd made so many mistakes and fucked up so badly that no one would want him, especially Cas. Sure, he saved people, had averted some Apocalypses with Sam but he'd also been the cause of many world-shattering happenings. And the people they'd lost, the people _he'd_ lost was on him. Who could love someone like that? As long as he had Cas in his life –even as a friend – he was content.

Cas stirred in his sleep but didn't wake. Dean fully intended to get up, check the time, pee, whatever just to escape the burning sensation of Cas' arm against him. His skin was on fire, but God help him, it was a fire he enjoyed. He stared at Cas' arm, strong muscles, skin a shade or two darker than his. Even the sun adored him, but to Dean, Castiel was the sun. He was Icarus and Castiel the star that burned brightly and if he wasn't careful, his own foolishness would cause him to come too close and he would end up being incinerated. Just the thought of Cas _knowing_ and rejecting him was too much. 

Still, Dean stayed as Cas rested close to him. 

He wanted to do more than stay. He wanted to press back against Cas' groin, feel his subtle movements flame Cas' arousal until his dick was hard and leaking. He wanted to entangle his fingers with Cas', kiss each knuckle on hands that had the power to heal and smite, but above all had captured his heart a long time ago, even though Cas was none the wiser. He wanted to turn and touch him. Touches that were not subtle and careful, orchestrated carefully as to not arouse any suspicion of Dean's true wants and desire. No, these were touches that would brand Cas' skin with the full passion and weight of his feelings just as Cas had once branded Dean in Hell as he saved him. He wanted to do so much more. 

He _wanted_. 

Dean sighed and turned slightly, trying to worm his way out from Cas' arm but came close to his bicep instead. Heart pounding, he waited for signs of Cas stirring or waking up and exhaled in relief as Cas seemed to be none the wiser. 

Inhaling again so close to Cas' skin, the essence of Cas assaulted his senses. A faint echo of the salty ocean, dark waves on a stormy night, the sharp tang of clashing lighting as it struck down, intermingled with soft notes of honey and deep underneath it all, Cas.

“Cas...” It spilled unbidden from Dean's lips but at that moment he didn't care. Cas was asleep anyway.

“Dean?” 

Cas' dark timbre registered in Dean's mind, neurons flashing in wild panic, adrenaline surging through his body as his heartbeat went into overdrive. Finally, his legs got the message to move the fuck away, and Dean practically jumped out of bed, taking one of the bed covers with him.

“Cas? You're awake?” Dean was holding the covers in front of him as if that would hide the mortification slowly creeping up his cheeks. Bless his lucky ass that the room was still shrouded in darkness or Dean would have died. Again.

“Just now. Is something wrong?”

“Nope, I was just getting ready for breakfast.” He picked up his phone, squinting as the sharp light blinded him for a moment. “It's 5.3 –“

“-5”, Cas finished for Dean. “I'm an angel. I know.”

“Yeah, right. Uh, so anyway, breakfast is soon ready and we don't wanna miss the bacon. I hate soggy bacon. But you already know that...”

There was a pause. “I do.”

Dean cleared his throat and grabbed some clothes in his duffel bag. “So, need to take a leak, and a quick shower and I'm ready to go.”

The floor lamp to the right of the room flared up, painting a small corner of the room in soft light. Cas' hair was messier than usual, the hot kind of messy. Dean's thoughts were on a train to sexy land and he needed to derail that shit right now. 

“Again? You showered yesterday?” Cas arched his brow slightly as he walked around the bed, probably looking for his discarded clothes. “If you feel unwell I can heal you, Dean, I don't mind healing 'minor crap' as you call it.”

Dean took a step back, towards the bathroom and cleared his throat. “Appreciate the offer, Cas, but I just need a quick shower. Then we, me, can stuff my face with all the bacon I can eat.”

Cas just hummed and Dean did a thumbs up. 

Castiel narrowed his eyes.

Dropping the cover on the floor, Dean stumbled into the bathroom and closed the door. The colder shower didn't bring him any relief.

Every single thought that could even come close to snide or evil regarding old people in general and Lucille, in particular, was erased as soon as Dean saw the breakfast options spread out in front of him. Two plates with bacon, crispy and chared-as-fuck, boiled eggs, a pot of coffee, some kind of dip with veggies, tea and scones. Lucille had made scones and judging by the lingering heat, not long ago either. Dean shook his head in disbelief as he poured some coffee in a mug and grabbed a scone which he balanced precariously on his plate loaded with bacon. Cas was already seated by a small round table.

“Hungry?”

Dean looked down at his plate as he sat down with a heavy thud. “It's free bacon, Cas. Besides, with the involuntary _upgrade_, Mrs. Mary-Pop-and-Crack owes us all the bacon in the kingdom.” For emphasis, he took a piece of bacon, stuffed it in his mouth and chewed. It shattered into pieces. Alright, it might have been a tad overcooked but Dean was not going to complain. It was _free bacon_.

They ate in relative silence. It was early morning after all and none of the other guests seemed to be awake. Where Cas and Dean usually had their morning ritual of sitting in amicable silence in the bunker before Dean had swallowed down the black coffee that jump-started him to life that silence was disrupted by Lucille slowly walking into the breakfast room.

“Good morning! I see you're up and about already! Good! Young fellows like yourself should rise and shine with the dawn. How was your stay in the honeymoon suite? You need anything else? Coffee warm enough? I made it early. I have jam and honey too and three kinds of cereal! Not the sugary kind though. Rots your teeth.” Her rapid stream of questions made an odd contrast to her careful walk across the room. She stopped in front of them, and as she smiled her eyes were swallowed up slowly by wrinkles as if they were in a sinkhole.

“We're fine, thank you, Lucille. We'll just have a quick breakfast and be on our way.”

“And the room was satisfactory? It _is_ a special room after all.”

Dean took a sip of his coffee and realized she was looking at him, swaying a bit from side to side. He had an impulse to reach out and steady her. “Uh, yes. It was fine.”

“Fine?” Lucille said the word like it had shattered her happiness and only higher praise would restitute her to full capacity again. Dean could see her eyes appear again, sorrow marring them.

“Very nice. The finest honeymoon suit I've ever booked.” For added measure, he said, “Loved the chair. Great... carvings.”

Lucille smiled again as she nodded emphatically. “You're too kind, Mr, Jones.” Before she shuffled away, she winked at them. “The extra bacon is on me.”

“Seems the bacon came with an upcharge?” Castiel spoke slowly, in a hushed voice, which Dean thought was odd. Sure, it was a small motel, but it had _walls_.

Dean chewed on a scone and shrugged. “She's right. Only fools give away free bacon. Luckily my dazzling charm works again.”

Cas snorted. “Yes. Thank God for your magical way with the centenarians.”

“Hey, it works with the celestials.” He took a sip of coffee and enjoyed the heat of it as it traveled down. 

Cas didn't reply, but him rolling his eyes was all the answer Dean needed. 

As the breakfast came to an end, Dean found himself on edge. He was waiting for Cas to bring up the _thing_ that had happened right before they woke up but Cas acted like everything was normal. 

Dean stuffed the bags in the trunk of Baby and as they left _Lucille's Layover_ and Lufkin, the sun had already started to warm the road. Soon, a sweltering heat would permeate the air but Baby was made to be comfortable during long drives. The same could not be said about Cas' company. Sure, they talked as usual about hunts, Sam's failed attempts to bring some nutritious food into Jack's diet – he was a kid, if he wanted Oreo's for a breakfast snack, Dean was not going to stop him – and if they should rewatch all the Hatchet-man movies from the beginning, _again_, but to Dean what used to be an easy familiarity was now tinged with uncertainty. Cas still hadn't said anything about _his_ arms wrapped around Dean. Sure, the same thing went both ways but it was not Dean's arms that hugged him tightly and it was sure as hell not Dean's groin that had pressed against... whatever. 

As they drove through Gilmer, two hours later, not much had changed except that Dean really needed coffee and a piss. They stopped at a Gas-N-Sip, filled up Baby and Dean ordered the blackest coffee they had and a sad excuse for a chocolate donut. The texture reminded him of sawdust, but if he was gonna enjoy something about the trip back it was gonna be his sawdust-donut. Taking a too-large bite, he spluttered and rinsed out his mouth with coffee. 

“Given the fact that we ate breakfast not even two hours ago, you seem very intent on devouring that donut, Dean.” It was said with a smile and Dean had no reason not to smile back. 

“You gotta eat it while it's fresh, Cas. Although, by the texture of it, this donut must have been _wrapped_ yesterday.” There, a clear allusion to wrapping and arms and fucking groins pressing against him.

Cas glanced down at the wrapping paper. “Paper does have a tendency to keep the moisture in. If the donut is faulty, you can ask for a new one. I'm sure they won't charge extra for it.”

Dean looked at Cas and his eyes – too beautiful to be real – but there they were, on that face, with those ridiculously plump, chapped lips that he wanted to devour. He would take Cas' dry lips over dry donut any day. Clearing his throat, he shook his head. “I'm good, Cas. A donut is a donut.” Taking the last bite together with some coffee that he sipped so slowly he'd risk dribbling all over his shirt if he wasn't being careful, he waited. 

Still nothing. 

Sighing, he pushed down his anger at Cas' refusal to say something. Anything. He tossed a bag of pistachios at him. “Got you some snacks too.”

As they passed Tulsa, Dean's anger had morphed to uncertainty before finally settling itself into its final form – crippling doubt and self-loathing. Those were feelings Dean was all too familiar with and he would have settled with them if he didn't notice the look Cas was giving him as they neared the city of Owasso.

As they passed Owasso, Dean had spotted Cas glancing at him three times and he was reaching his breaking point. 

Dean didn't know if it was the donut that had tasted like crap, the fact that he had a small pebble in his shoe that was driving him up the walls or that his favorite Blue Öyster Cult cassette had decided to die on him. Sam used to bug him about clearing the air, talking about feelings, so this was Dean doing just that. 

Spotting a cluster of dense trees in an otherwise sparse landscape covered with short roadside grass, Dean eased off the gas and turned left. The car rocked up and down on thickets of dense grass, and Dean slowed down even more. No need to put a dent in Baby cause he was in a reckless mood. As they found shade, surrounded by trees, Dean cut the engine.

He was breathing hard, his chest expanding almost painfully, and it seemed like air was fickle, refusing to enter his lungs. The sense of suffocation was too much and Dean opened up the door and got out. He rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head at his idiocy as he heard Cas close the door behind himself.

“Dean, are you sure you're alright? You're acting... well, very strange. Do you need me to call Sam or Jack? Maybe they –“

“Just stop, Cas. Alright? Just stop.”

The background noise of the occasional car didn't do much to hide the soft sound of Cas' shoes on the gravel, and soon the angel was right in front of Dean. Like a magnetic field calling Dean to react, pulling him into an orbit where Castiel was the focal point, Dean found himself unable to look away. Cas' eyes were freakishly, fantastically blue and he needed to do something to clear his head. Air your shit out, Dean.

“You haven't said a word about yesterday, Cas. And fine, I get it. Maybe it was embarrassing for me too, but at least you can... I don't know. Just say _something_. I get it. I'm a guy, been one for almost four decades, well, minus a stint as a demon, and I did a brief tour in Hell. Of course, you know that, you were there, and things happen, uh... down there – “

Cas' one eyebrow was raised so high, that for a brief moment Dean thought it was on the verge of escaping. He cleared his throat. “Dean. I did not – “

Dean knew how this went. Cas said something else and then Dean got totally sidetracked by his deep voice that sent shivers down his spine but today would not be that day. He noticed that Cas had taken a small step towards him, not that Dean had anywhere else to go. He could feel the handle from Baby digging into his back. “ – Anyway, I just wanted to say it's totally cool. It didn't mean a thing, uh, obviously.” He noticed that his voice was almost down to a whisper which suited him fine. And didn't Cas have some kind of super angel hearing? “We were both asleep...” His initial reasoning for stopping and getting out of Baby felt hollow now that all anger was drained out of him and if he just let this die down together with his words, they could all resume the status quo of being Dean the hunter and Cas, the angel. Close friends but not that close. Friends that were most definitely not having benefits. “So, if you could just, you know, take a step back we can be on our way, Cas. How about th –“

It was a small step, an infinitesimal movement that tilted Dean's whole world until up was down, left was right and fucking Zeppelin was Zara Larson or whatever that chick's name was.

Cas' lips on his mouth were hesitant but very much there and Dean got assaulted by the taste of honey, the salt of the deep ocean, but all that was unmatched by the feeling of electricity surging through his body. Great, he was having a heart attack. How cheesy.

Slowly, Castiel pulled off and Dean could see how Cas was searching for something in Dean's face, even as a small hesitant smile played on his lips. Dean was not sure what Cas was looking for and as he tried to say something, anything, a strangled gasp escaped instead. 

Castiel had fucking kissed him! Before he knew what his face was doing, he felt a huge grin coming on and he grabbed Cas' by the short hair on the back of his neck. This kiss was miles away from being hesitant or chaste. Dean intended to pry out every ounce of taste and feeling from Cas and they kissed until Dean was panting and even then he didn't want to let go. He had been a man under water, silently drowning and Cas was filling his lungs with precious, welcoming air.  


“Dean, I want to make it clear that it did –“

Dean kissed the corner of Cas' mouth, his mind finally registering that Cas was trying to say something. “Sorry, Cas. You were saying?” He pushed against Cas as he fumbled with the handle, and it was all Dean needed to know about the state of things. The angel was hard as a rock, only matched by the aching need that made Dean's cock twitch in anticipation. He finally got the door open but a small hesitation lingered, making Dean move slowly and with measured movements. This was the point of no return; a loud voice in his mind reminded him that the point of no return had already passed as they had kissed like horny teenagers.

Cas' eyes on him were blown wide with lust, and Dean noticed swirls of grace flicker in and out of them. When Dean had grabbed Cas' to reciprocate the kiss with unadulterated yearning it seemed as it was all the confirmation Cas needed. “I do believe humans have a saying, Dean,” Cas' voice was hoarse, as he splayed a hand over Dean's chest and pushed him into the car, “actions speak louder than words.”

Dean scooted further back into the backseat of Baby as he sent off a quick thankful thought to the fact that he owned an Impala and not a Yaris or fucking Beetle. 

Cas had already shrugged out of his trench coat and now discarded his suit jacket with the same efficiency, tossing it down on the floor of the Impala. He loosened his tie, ready to take it off but Dean interrupted him. 

“Keep it on...”

Cas quirked an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I can do that.” He entered the car, more gracefully than Dean expected and closed the door. Dean felt crowded by Cas' presence. He liked it.

It felt like Dean had a perpetual grin on his face, but he couldn't help it. This was literally his dreams coming to life, the good kind of dreams filled with light, hope and love and all the things that he'd shoved down so far inside himself, that he'd managed to convince himself he didn't need or want them.

But how he _needed_.

“I need you, Cas.”

Cas kissed him, almost violently, lips bruising against already sensitive skin. “You have me, Dean. You”, a kiss on his lips again, “are”, a teasing of lips near his ear that made his skin pebble with desire, “perfection”, a deep suckling kiss near his collarbone that had Dean bucking up against Cas. One taste of the angel and he wanted more.

Each kiss was a searing seal, binding Dean's soul irrevocably to Cas. He found the buttons on Cas' shirt and started to unbutton them, silently cursing the person who decided to make buttons the size of peas, only to choose the most slippery material – had he dunked them in lube before sewing them on? He had most certainly never been in a situation where clothes needed to be gone _yesterday_.

Finally, Dean was done. Cas slipped out of the shirt without effort and tossed it to the side, and if that wasn't the hottest thing Dean had seen... 

Cas bent down over Dean again, claiming him with his mere presence again.

“Fuck, Cas...” Dean's hands almost trembled as they tentatively stroked Cas' shoulders, going down muscular, thick arms. His hands painted a gorgeous contrast on Cas' skin who was a shade, if not two, darker than his.

“You're way too dressed for this, Dean.” 

“Mm, there is more?”

Cas nodded. “Yes, at least two more bases.”

Dean's chuckle was cut short as Cas tugged at Dean's belt. “I do think this needs to come off.” 

“Yeah, same. Off it goes, who needs belts anyway? If you don't have pants that are too big, then it's – “

Cas' hands suddenly stopped fiddling with the belt and he licked his lips. His eyes didn't quite meet Dean's as he spoke. “We can stop if you feel... uncertain. I don't want to pressure you into something you'll regret later.”

Letting out a strangled noise, Dean shook his head. “Believe me Cas, I'm not regretting any of this right now and I sure as hell won't later. I'm just nervous and I talk crap when I'm nervous. Watch how much I want this.”

Easing his back off the seat, Dean slipped one arm out of a shirt sleeve but as he tried to do the same with the other he found that he was stuck. He couldn't angle himself properly without either hitting the seat or the roof of Baby.

“Well, what you lack in gracefulness you certainly make up for with your eagerness.” 

“Shut up, Cas, and help me.” Dean angled his body so Cas could pull off his shirt before he hunched down and removed his T-shirt. “Let me help myself with the rest.” Unbuckling his belt, Dean unbuttoned his pants as Cas moved out of the way, before arching up and pulling them down to his thighs. Grabbing Cas' tie, Dean pulled Cas back on top of him. “Come here.”

The heavy weight of Cas was pure heaven, and the fact that Dean was in his fucking boxers didn't bother him in the slightest. Cas had fucking kissed him! Soon, Cas' lips trailed over Dean, from his collarbone making way slowly down his chest. 

“You are... just beautiful, Dean. I wish to kiss each and every freckle on this gorgeous body.” 

Cas stopped just above Dean's nipple, and as he breathed out Dean could feel it turn hard. His cock pulsed in excitement and he was pretty sure a damp spot had already formed on his boxers.

“You can kiss more than my freckles.”

“Mm...” Cas' mouth closed around the nipple and Dean found his fingers raking through Cas' hair, pulling tightly as the angel kept sucking hard on the nub. Dean hissed at a sharp tug, Cas' teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Goosebumps of pleasure erupted all over his body and as Cas pulled away, Dean mourned the loss. 

“I think it's only fair that I'm in the same state of undress.”

Dean just nodded as Cas took off his pants but found his mouth going dry as Cas pulled down his underwear too, freeing his hard cock. It curved slightly toward his stomach, the head red and angry as Cas stroked himself a couple of times. Dean let his eyes stray, taking in Cas' strong thighs and the way his biceps played as he continued to stroke himself. Fuck, if this continued Dean was going to come very soon and he wanted to savor every moment of this. 

The windows of Baby had fogged up, giving them shelter from the, if however unlikely, passerbys. On one hand, Dean appreciated the natural shielding it provided, on the other hand, just the thought of the hassle it would take to clean the windows had him already grumbling. Dean blinked. What the hell was he thinking about? “Well, I don't know about the same state, Cas. Still have these on.”

“That's easily alleviated.” Cas' fingers ghosted over the rim of Dean's boxers, causing Dean to gasp as his fingers caressed skin. With a confident pull, the boxers were gone but were soon replaced with Cas' warm hand enveloping his cock. Dean closed his eyes as he leaned back on the seat again, overwhelmed with sensations. 

“Look at you, Dean. So strong of mind, yet with one touch, you come undone.”

“Not only my mind that's gonna come soon – “ Dean groaned as Cas did something with his hand that sent pleasure surging throughout his body and he moved his hips, pressing into Cas' hand; a silent invitation for more. 

“I can always use my grace to – “

Dean opened his eyes in surprise, a million ideas churning in his head but he stopped himself. Suddenly, heat colored his cheeks as he struggled to formulate his thoughts. “That sounds really nice, Cas. I just...” Gods, just say it.

Cas continued stroking Dean's cock, an idle thumb playing with the head as he waited for Dean to continue. As several beats passed, Cas looked at Dean in earnest. “You know, Dean, you can always be honest with me. Always. I'll never judge you.”

Huffing out a breath as Cas did something magical with his hands, but to be fair every single touch of his was magical, Dean nodded. Despite his determination, he couldn't help heat flushing his body. “I would like... you know, it's our...” He sighed in frustration. “Fuck, Cas, you know what I mean.”

Letting go of Dean's cock, Cas shook his head. “Not really, no.” He bent down and left a feather-light kiss on Dean's right inner thigh. Dean's cock twitched again, leaking precum. “I'm not gonna touch you until you're honest.” Cas' playful attitude turned serious, and there was a hint of steel behind his blue eyes. “There's been enough of dishonesty between us, no matter the good intentions.”

Dean swallowed. The hair on his body stood up in attention. He could _feel_ the truth in Cas' words like a weight on his heart. 

Cas kissed Dean's stomach as his fingers slowly caressed his arms, and it felt so good.

“You're right, Cas. You're right.” Dean cleared his throat. “Since it's... you know, our first time together. How about no magic, no grace... just us?” Cas smiled and it melted Dean's heart. Just great. He was already turning into a sap. 

“I'd really like that, Dean.”

“Good. And I was serious about the coming soon part. You're like a damn sex god.” 

Cas chuckled. “Well, let's just say I've had ample time to picture you and me together.” 

Cas dragged his fingers down Dean's arms but Dean's attention was all focused on Cas and his magnificent body. “It's not fair,” he mumbled as he stroked Cas' sides, reveling in the strength of him, and the fact that he could finally touch the angel.

“What's not fair?” Cas breathed as he kissed his way further down Dean's thighs. 

Breathing heavily, Dean tried to gather his thoughts, but with each kiss, coherence lost its meaning. “Um, not fair that you're good-looking with a killer body...you hide under that ugly-ass trench coat.” Dean raked his fingers through Cas' hair as Cas kissed his other thigh, inching closer to Dean's achingly hard cock. “And your eyes are fucking ridiculous, so blue that you just want to shake your head in disbelief.” Sudden alarm filled Dean's voice when he realized he sounded like some perv that had checked Cas out and daydreamed about him. He _had_ done that but he was not a perv. Not that Cas' body wasn't to die for, but it was _more_ than that.

“You think too much, Dean.” Cas wrapped his lips around Dean's cock and Dean was lost. He moaned out harshly, curses on his lips as Cas sucked him, twirling his tongue around Dean's sensitive head before swallowing him down. With all the willpower Dean could muster he pushed at Cas until the other man eased off. 

Cas looked at him in confusion. “You don't want me to – “

Dean laughed. “Hell, yeah I want you to. But look, this is all...so much. My body is wound up tighter than Scrooges wad of dollar bills on Christmas Eve and I would like to have... you know, _all_ of you, Cas.”

Cas' eyes widened in sudden understanding before he pushed Dean down on his back. 

The position left Dean feeling like a pretzel so he hoisted himself up a tad, angling his body as Cas came closer towards Dean, stroking his cock with a few pumps of his hand. Reaching out, Dean caressed Cas' thigh and opened his right leg, leaning it against the seat as he dropped his left leg on the floor. It was not the most comfortable position but right that moment, Dean didn't care. “I got some lube in my jacket pocket, inside, right side.”

Fishing out the small bottle of lube, Cas covered his head generously, his hand working slowly. Even a sight such as that sent Dean's heart stuttering. As Cas angled his cock in between Dean's ass, pushing slowly against his rim, Dean closed his eyes in anticipation. 

“You don't need any preparation? I've – ”

Dean moaned in frustration.“ Fuck, Cas... If you don't fuck me right this moment, I'll explode. Not the good dick bursting kind of explosion but the bad one where I pop a vein out of pure sexual frustration and fall down dead. I'd rather die from dick than from desperation. And I think my leg is starting to cramp up.”

“I think we've had enough with the dying. And I need to think about your leg...”

“Mm.”

Once again, Dean could feel Cas' cock against his hole, pushing in slowly. He gasped at the sensation, breathing out as Cas pushed in further. His whole body was coiled tightly, not due to pain but purely from amazement. This was Cas entering him. Cas, the sexiest angel in all of the garrisons, he was sure of it. Cas who had been by his side for years, Cas who had been his friend even when Dean yearned for more, Cas who was his everything even when that knowledge had been just a small seed sprouting in his heart. “Fuck, I can't believe you're fucking me,” Dean panted.

Cas looked at him for a moment, before pulling back, only to slam into Dean again.“I must say that it's rather disappointing, you disbelieving your eyes and senses, Dean. Let me give you a reason to believe.” Grabbing hold of Dean's waist, Cas moved him around, until Dean had his head in the corner of the backseat, one of his legs almost wrapped around Cas.

It was not the most comfortable position to be in and Dean was about to tell Cas as such when Cas started fucking him in earnest. Each thrust inside sent pleasure traveling fucking everywhere, and together with Cas' grunts and small moans of pleasure, Dean could already feel the anticipation building. His head kept bumping into the seat so Dean reached behind himself and splayed a hand against the leather, pushing back. Bruises were fine, bumps he'd avoid if he could. 

A small sheen of sweat covered his body and his breathing came in quick, short pants. Looking at Cas, his blue eyes taking in everything with a sense of wonder, Dean could only moan. “Cas... fuck, I'm so close.” His balls tightened in anticipation. He gripped the leather with the other hand but found it was useless as purchase. Just then, Cas' cock hit a sweet spot and Dean groaned in pleasure. “Fuck.”

“You're amazing, Dean. Just breathtaking,” the angel panted as he thrust into Dean with so much force that Dean had to actively push back with his right hand, as not to be smashed. It was fucking hot.

Dean touched Cas' hand that gripped his hip tightly, nudging his fingers underneath Cas' hold until Cas finally got the message. Carefully, Dean intertwined their fingers together. 

Cas didn't stop his movements, just angled himself so he could thrust better with one hand. Dean saw the radiant smile gracing his face just before he clamped down on Cas' cock a final time. Closing his eyes, Dean came hard, locked in rigidity as white spots danced before his eyes. His heartbeat kept beating frantically even as the last of his come pumped out of his spent cock. 

Each breath of air did its part in calming him down and a few thrusts later just as Cas came inside him the world paused at the sight. And what a sight it was; Cas' hair wild and messy, his eyes closed in rapture, his hand almost crushing Dean's.

“Holy fuck, Cas.”

Cas eased out of him and moved back somewhat so Dean could have more space. Dean could feel Cas' eyes trailing slowly over his body as if committing the sight to memory, fearful that it would be the last.

Silence lay heavy over them. 

“Are you... alright?”

Dean grinned. “Do I look alright? I'm fucking alright, Cas. This was...great. More than great.”

Cas' returning smile was everything Dean wanted. 

Being on the road again felt weird as if something fundamental had shifted between them and yet it was all the same, only more and deeper, and it was still complicated as fuck. The landscape changed fast as Baby traveled with speed down the road, inching ever closer to Lawrence and the Bunker.

Now Cas knew about Dean's feelings for him and Dean knew that Cas felt the same. He glanced over at Cas again, for what felt like the hundredth time. He looked the same; shirt and trench coat on, perpetually messy, dark hair, lips still sexy as hell, hands that were strong and trailed down Dean's chest, caressing – Dean gritted his teeth to stop the incoming flood of memories, emotions, _sensations_. He started reciting some lines from _Tombstone_ but his dick didn't get the memo that it was supposed to sleep. Just the mere thought of Cas and the fucker was up and saying hello. Greedy bastard. 

The problem was that Dean was also greedy. And all these feelings, longing and yearning for Cas for years, hell, _loving_ him, to finally being able to touch him, kiss him had been fucking great. And the sex had been mind-blowing– but sex once with Cas didn't mean that they were together now, did it? But they had sort of said they loved each other, hadn't they? 

Dean sighed. A love-declaration didn't mean that they were supposed to hold hands, and do their laundry together, watch movies and eat breakfast together when Sam was out jogging, or buy groceries together – although Dean had to tag along when it was Cas' turn to go to the store already or they'd have a pantry full of rye bread, seaweed, kale, and pickled herring. Basically, Sam's dream dinner. 

This was just a one-time thing. They'd probably forget about this tomorrow when Apocalypse number who-fucking-counts-anymore exploded in their faces. Cas had been silent for over ten minutes. He was probably regretting this already. The thought doused Dean with a sense of profound sadness and he swallowed harshly, ignoring the lump in his throat.

All these emotions were entangled like a huge fucking Gordian knot inside Dean's mind and he just wanted to take a sword and cut them to pieces. Dean gripped his steering wheel tighter and consciously eased off the gas, for the third time in less than half an hour. This was just a one-time thing. Just when Dean had told himself the mantra for the third time, he could feel a light touch on his hand.

Cas hesitantly rested his palm on top of Dean's hand, his words careful. “I hope this is alright.”

It was more than fucking alright. Dean nodded slowly, still cautious. “Yeah.”

Cas clasped his fingers over Dean's hand, squeezing gently once, before letting it rest there.

It would have been a lie if Dean told himself that he didn't enjoy the feeling. Clearing his throat, he tried for calm and unaffected. “So, um... that was not a one-time thing back there? With...eh, the sex and everything?” His voice cracked at the end. There went the unaffected part.

Cas turned to Dean, looking at him with that gaze of his that seemed to be able to penetrate all his walls and unearth all his secrets. Yet, Dean saw a flicker of uncertainty flash over Cas before he spoke. “Not if you don't want it to be?”

Squeezing Cas' hand, Dean smiled. “No way in hell are you and I gonna be a one-time thing.”

Cas smiled back. “Then let us be a forever thing.”


End file.
